


Harold Took A Walk In The Moonlight

by cuppalou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Famous Louis, Fluff, Kindergarten, Lots Of Harold and The Purple Crayon References, M/M, Mild Angst, Movie References To A Movie That Doesn't Exist, Non-Famous Harry, Poetry, Really Cliche Date Settings, Sex References but No Real Sex, Skinny Dipping, Teacher Harry, Way Too Much Teasing and Grinning, Writer Louis, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4279344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuppalou/pseuds/cuppalou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why don’t you introduce me to your lovely friends then go get dressed, darling.” Louis teases him, but Harry just ignores it. He already looked stupid, what can he do about it now? Harry guides Louis into their small dining room where Liam is sat at the head of the table on one side, Zayn to his left, and Niall to his right.</p><p>“This is Zayn” Zayn waves. “He’s the idiot that I let be my friend because Liam begged me to like him.” Zayn pouts a bit.</p><p>“You love me, douchebag.” Zayn mutters.</p><p>“Next to him is Liam.” Liam waves. “He was my college roommate, and for some crazy reason, I agreed to live with him and Zayn here.”</p><p>“I think the crazy reason is that you’re dirt poor.” Zayn grins, finally having an appropriate comeback. Liam swats him on the arm and tells him to shut up, but then returns to cuddling into his side.</p><p>“And the crazy pseudo-blonde is Niall, who I can stand to be around most of the time.”  Louis laughs loud and bright.</p><p>“What’s funny?” Niall asks.</p><p>Louis leans over and whispers in Niall’s ear “I’ll tell you when that loser goes to change, I don’t want to embarrass him too much"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harold Took A Walk In The Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chelseafrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelseafrew/gifts).



> Hi! First off I just want to apologize to both @chelseafrew and the creators of this fic exchange. This is terribly late and I'm very sorry my time management and schedule is so off. I also want to say thank you to the creators and my friends for being so supportive of me and my writing, and @chelseafrew for the wonderful prompts. I tried them all out, and loved them all, but ended up only really being alright with the way this one went. I wrote this for the most part in a sleepless haze of three days and I really hope you all think that it turned out all right. Un-beated and Americanized, because I'm trash. All poetry and "movie lines" in here are mine as well. That being said please comment and give kudos, because it would mean the world to me if you would let me know what you think.

Harry is sitting on the steps outside the school's door with a child named Hyacinth, who is most definitely one of his favorite students. The air is rather chilly this afternoon, and things are only just beginning to bloom. The sun is shining blindingly bright, and he'd really like to go for a walk. He will when she gets picked up. Her mother is rather late coming to get her, but her dad's had called earlier letting him know she would be, so Harry doesn't mind. Not really. Kindergartener's uphold extremely interesting conversations.

"And then Keeko wouldn't go to bed, so I had to read him a bedtime story. He didn't like the first one very much, so I had to choose a new one. My mommy told me to just give him to her, but I wanted to help him get to sleep because he helps me sometimes." She's been telling this story for approximately five minutes. It's not even that important, but the fact that she wanted to help out keeps him listening. That's something a lot of parents forget to teach their kids.

"You must love that puppy a whole lot." Hyacinth nods her head in rapid succession. Five-year-olds love everything to such a large extent, and sometimes he feels it rubbing off on himself. On occasion, it swallows him whole, drowning him in a deep adoration and appreciation for everything around him. Today is not one of those days. Today is a day where he wants to go for a walk then curl up in his bed with a good book and hope that Zayn and Liam aren't fucking for two and a half seconds.

The two of them have been together for nearly as long as the three of them have known each other.

In freshman year of college Harry was Liam's roommate, and the first day Liam got back in their room after his classes, he starting going on and on about this boy with gorgeous hair, and even prettier eyes.

"Oh, I'm gay by the way." He had said nonchalantly as if that wasn't already blatantly obvious. Liam had always told the longest stories and only got to his point at the absolute ending. Harry never understood it, but let it be anyway.

"Me too buddy, me too." When he had said that it caught Liam completely off guard. Harry never got that either. There was a ton of things he never understood about Liam, come to think of it.

"Really? Wow. I did not see that one coming. Are you sure?" He was asked are you sure more times in the next twenty-four hours, than he's ever been asked anything in his whole lifetime. And he knew Niall. That had to be some kind of accomplishment. He should give Liam an award.

Liam helplessly pinned after this mystery boy for two weeks before, he bumped into him in the courtyard, and the boy asked him out.

"You want to go out sometime?" Zayn had asked oddly casual. Liam stopped breathing for a minute, before Harry said yes for him, and apologized for his odd behavior. Harry had to drag Liam along nearly the entire walk back to their dorm.

"Are you incapable of English words, Liam? Because all I'm hearing is complete _nonsense_." Harry had said in a teasing manner, but he's positive Liam had registered none of it. "Earth to Liam. Hello, anyone in there?" He waits another minute with no response and almost gives up when,

"I am going out on a date with Zayn Malik." He sounds absolutely starstruck as if he just won the lottery or met his favorite celebrity. Zayn is neither of those things, so Harry finds it strange.

"Yes… What about it?" Liam's eyes bulge out of his head. Harry wonders if what he said is all that unbelievable. He doubts it. Liam has always been one to overreact.

"What about it? What about it! He's Zayn Malik. _Zayn Malik_ wants to date me. Can you believe it, Harry? He wants to date me!" Harry could, surprisingly enough, believe it. Liam was great. Kind, and sweet, and definitely not hard on the eyes. Apparently, he himself was unaware of all that.

"I know. That's great, Li. I'm happy for you." Liam grins from ear to ear like he needed Harry's full-fledged approval to be happy. It was weird. All his friends seemed to do that the first couple of months.

"I guess we'll just… go." Hyacinth's mother looks disgusted. Apparently she's never heard of daydreaming or being exhausted? Also being timely.

"Have a great weekend Hyacinth! Don't let that puppy of yours get into too much trouble." Hyacinth giggles and waves as a response. They both shuffle into the car, her mother whispering in her ear probably telling her off about one thing or another. He clearly can tell that her weekends at her dad's teach her more than her weeks with her mom. Good. He doesn't want her to be anything like that lady. He can only hope she stays that way.

He collects his things and tidies up his classroom. He’s just walking out the door when he receives another call.

"Hello?"

"Harry! This is Kingston and Presley, Hyacinth's fathers."

"Of course. Hi Kingston, what did you need?"

"I just wanted to make sure Lila picked up our little princess."

"Yup, she should be on her way to your place right now!"

"Thank you so much. I would've been there, but we were at an author signing."

"Really? That sounds fun. Who was the author?"

"Louis Tomlinson."

"Hmm… Never heard of him."

"If you're not busy I'd go check him out! He's a brilliant writer, and I think you'd like him. Don't you agree, Presley?"

"Oh for sure! Just Harry's type of _author_."

"Okay… Thank you. You guys have a lovely weekend."

"You too! Goodbye." They say in unison

"Bu-bye."

Harry is left confused when the conversation ends. They sounded like they were teasing him, which makes no sense. Does that mean he won't like the author? Why else would they say it like that? He guesses he'll have to find out for himself.

****  
  


**...**

****  
  


He now knows why, and he kind of hates his life. Louis Tomlinson looks like the epitome of perfection. The line to meet him is ridiculously long, and Harry's near the back. Big crowds aren't exactly his thing, but he knows the signing has to end sometime. He just hopes it's not before he gets to the front.

Immediately, he hears a group behind him sigh, and some may even be crying? Harry's extremely confused, before he realizes they cut the line off… right before him. If that isn't lucky, he's not sure what is.

He inches along, minutes turn into hours, and by the time he's five away from the front line, he's ready for a nap. He sits down and counts the people that pass by; _one, four, nine._ They all watch him with sympathy and envy. He doesn't know which one is worse. _Seventeen, twenty, twenty-three_. More and more pass, as his eyelids droop lower and lower. _Thirty-two, thirty-six, thirty-eight_. He realizes a minute too late that the people have turned into sheep, and he's nodded off completely.

The next thing he knows the line is empty, and Louis Tomlinson, accompanied by four bodyguards surround him.

"You think he's alright? He didn't pass out or anything? Is he dehydrated? Should we go to the hospital? I can call the ambulance.. Here let me do that. I'll…"

" _Louis_ , he's fine. He was probably just tired. It's not like the line was short and he was the last one in it."

Oh, so that's Louis talking. He heard him faintly earlier, but up close he can imagine how he would sound in different situations, and Harry's mind is swimming. His voice sounds equal parts a lullaby and a sex dream; both soothing and arousing. He needs to respond before the boy ends up calling the ambulance despite Harry not needing one, but he doesn't know what to say. Every thought has disappeared from his brain, and if he opens his mouth now he's bound to say something stupid.

Of course, he does anyway.

"You have very pretty eyes." _There it is_. The first thing he says to some famous guy is that. 'You have very pretty eyes?' How subtle. He really needs to get a grip on things.

"T-Thank you?" Louis responds. He looks confused, but not terrified so Harry supposes that's a good sign. Harry's cheeks still can't help but turn scarlet.

"I'm so sorry. I-I'll just go…"

"But you waited in line for three hours, don't you at least want a signature or something?"

"I'm good, thanks. I just wanted to meet you. Have a nice day!"

Louis stares at him. Harry's sure he can't believe his ears. Who would wait in a line that long and ask for nothing? That's just weird. Apparently he would though. This isn't how he wanted any of this to go. Harry doesn't particularly enjoy embarrassing himself in front of beautiful boys.

As he walks away, he can hear the five men mumbling to each other.

"What do you mean?"

"Louis, we can't just look that that up."

"Why not?"

"I'm pretty sure that's against the law."

"The laws can go fuck themselves…"

Louis' feet sound loud and angry as he walks away. Harry thinks that maybe he wants to make footprints in the concrete, so that no one can forget whatever was happening, happened. Maybe he wants to come back one day with his children and say, you see this? This is here because of me, and no one can doubt it, because the evidence is there. If the shoe fits, and such.

Harry is disappointed that his walk never occurred. That he has to go home and no one will ever believe his story about Louis Tomlinson because he has no proof. No footprints in the concrete. He's upset that Zayn and Niall and Liam most likely don't even know of Louis' existence. Everyone should know of Louis' existence. He carries on moving one foot in front of the other while making a mental list of things he needs to do; buying Louis' books being at the top of it. When he finally gets home he lays on the couch and pretends he has soundproof walls. Of course, his third wish didn't come true either. Of fucking course.

****  
  


**...**

****  
  
  


"According to Wikipedia, Louis Tomlinson was born in Doncaster, England but moved to Wheeling, West Virginia when his parents divorced, his birth name is Louis Troy Austin, but his name is now Louis William Tomlinson. He is 5' 10,"

"Zayn, there's no way he's 5' 10."

"I'm just reading what it says, Harry."

"But, Zayn if I know that's not true how do I know the rest of it is? How do I make sure it's not all bullshit?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Can you edit the page?"

"Why?"

"Well, I don't want it to be filled with lies."

"Yeah you can edit it. What is his height then?"

"Put 5' 9, he seems like the kind of person who would want to be projected as taller."

"You want me to change it to one inch less? What's the point?"

"5' 10 is a straight up lie, 5' 9 is a slightly exaggerated truth."

"Whatever floats your boat."

"Thank you."

****  
  


**…**

****  
  


A few weeks later Harry's creating worksheets for his class tomorrow, at a random coffee shop downtown. He's been here before, and the only significance of the place is that it's nautical themed, and Harry loves it. Everything about it reminds him of the ocean and the times he's previously spent near it. The walls are shades of blue and white, and the windows are lined in yellow. Splayed across the walls in black, are beautiful designs of ships, anchors, ropes, and compasses. Each print is different and unique, yet you can tell some of them are meant to be together.

Everything in there smells like a summer day; like the ocean is in fact nearby, and someone made fresh scones for breakfast, because you're on vacation and you have all the time in the word to do what you please. It's his secret getaway. An out from all his worldly struggles. A little piece of paradise when he's having a tough time.

He orders a mocha latte and a piece of french silk pie because it's nearly eleven p.m. and he hasn't been home since this morning, when he left for his job. His MacBook is still in front of him, with a blinking cursor hovering over the coloring page he was making. He can't decide is he should create a background or not. He knows it'll take the kids longer, but he knows they'll appreciate it. He contemplates for a little while longer until he decides to go for it. What's another hour here at this point?

He's deep in his thoughts, trying to decide whether he should put a couple of butterflies in the image when someone taps his shoulder.

"Excuse me, but I believe this is yours." A man says, sounding nervous. Harry spins around on his barstool. He forgets how to breathe momentarily. It's Louis. _Louis Tomlinson_ , the famous author he met weeks ago. Louis Tomlinson is standing right in front of him with a mocha latte and a piece of french silk pie, and Harry _cannot breathe_.

"This is _yours_ , right?" He asks again and whoops. Harry forgot he had asked a question.

"Yeah, yeah I'm sorry." Harry takes the items from Louis' hands. Louis stands there and stares at him for a moment until he shakes his head as if he just remembered something.

"I've seen you before. You were the guy that fell asleep at a signing and then just walked away, weren't you?" Harry grins while he mentally bangs his head against the table. He was really hoping that Louis wouldn't remember him since he is a celebrity and all. That theory is obviously wrong, and now their conversation is going to be awkward.

 

"Yup, that's me." Harry flinches like it pains him to say it. Louis still looks at him funny, but he smiles faintly.

"Do you… Do you mind if I… Could I possibly sit with you?" And, _oh_. That's not what Harry expected Louis to say at all.

"Um, yeah… Yeah, that's not a problem. Sit. Wait, here, hold on lemme get that for you."

"Oh. Um… thanks."

Harry wonders for an awkward moment whether he's taking it too far. Is it weird to pull out a near strangers chair for them? Probably. He'll just pass it off as being courteous. Maybe, Louis will find him charming and compliment him on being raised right. Or maybe he'll say nothing at all.

"So, what brings you here so late at night, mister big shot author?"

"I could ask you the same thing, mister leaves an author's signing without so much as a signature."

"My name is Harry." Harry grins so wide he thinks his lips may crack and break open with rays of sunlight spilling out from inside of him because was Louis just teasing him? He must have been because now he's smirking. Harry will be lucky to be alive at the end of this conversation.

"Is that short for Harold? Like in Harold and The Purple Crayon?"

"Absolutely not." Harry scoffs in mock offense.

"Really? Strange. You remind me of him quite a lot, actually."

"Are you trying to tell me I remind you of a bald baby that likes to color on everything" Harry quirks a curious eyebrow.

"Oh yeah. You've got the whole wide-eyed and full of dreams look about you. And have you seen what you're wearing?"

Harry looks down at his outfit. He's wearing gray Nike sweats, a rather large azure hoodie he stole from his previous boyfriend, and his long hair is up in a bun. It's nothing like Harold's blue onesie, but if Louis likes to think it is then who is he to argue?

"At least I'm full of creativity and have a good taste in colors."

"That you do."

Harry goes to take a bite of his pie, and slowly as the conversation drags on his pie is nearly gone, but he's far too full to finish it. He scoots it to the side of him so that the employees are aware that he's done, then faces Louis once again.

"Harold drew too much pie." Louis smiles shyly.

"What?" Harry becomes extremely confused.

"It's a quote, from Harold and The Purple Crayon? Sorry, you just reminded me of it. Is your favorite food pie as well, Harold?" Louis begins to giggle quietly, clearly enjoying himself. As the sound of his laughter gets louder, Harry can't help but join in with the contagious lit of his happy chuckle. It reminds him of the sparkling sea in the sunlight or molten gold.

"Sadly it's not."

"That's it, then. The resemblance is gone."

"Aww, how sad. What will we have to talk about now?"

"Would this be an appropriate time to bring out the Harry Potter similarities, or?"

"I couldn't think of a better time."

With that Louis begins to make endless Harry Potter references, and when he gets bored with that he starts to call him a prince. Harry isn't sure how long they sit there. He just knows that the sun starts to rise as he leaves with unfinished coloring pages, an awfully cold mocha latte, and Louis' signature, his number, and a small note that says ‘you have very pretty eyes too' written on a post-it note in purple crayon.

****  
  


**…**

****  
  


Harry is pacing back and forth in Zayn and Liam's living room. Niall is sprawled out on the couch, Liam and Zayn are cuddling on a recliner, and for some reason they're not getting what he's saying and why it's such a big deal.

"Hazza, calm the fuck down." Niall rolls his eyes while commenting on Harry's strange behavior.

"Niall, why don't you understand that I can't." Harry sighs. The last time he was this stressed he was opening his letter to see if he got into Columbia for International Business (he did, but that didn't work out all that well).

"H, Ni's right. There's no need to freak out, it's just a text." Liam pats his shoulder sympathetically.

It wasn't just a text though. It was a text from Louis asking if he wanted to meet up next week. Of course he did, but he didn't know what ‘meetup' implied, or when too soon to text back is, or what he should wear, or if it was a date, or.

"Harry. Stop." Zayn says while waving his hands in front of Harry's face.

"You're thinking too much. Just text him now, agree, and ask what he is planning to do. That's it. _Easy peasy lemon squeezy_." Niall mentions while smacking his gum obnoxiously.

Harry momentarily stops his pacing and considers it. Maybe, it is as easy as they're making it out to be. Maybe, he should just text Louis. Or, maybe, he'll respond and Louis will decide it was a bad idea all along, and that he doesn't want to associate himself with a kindergarten teacher.

He stands there contemplating a little while longer until his phone beeps again, and Niall snatches it out of his hand. He types a few texts, snickers at the buzzing responses and then gives it back. Harry’s eyes widen in something in resemblance of shock and surprise when he reads what Louis responded with.

 

 **Louis:** _Harold, don’t make me stalk your friends Facebook’s so that I can figure why you’re taking FOREVER to respond._

**Louis:** _I know you have your phone H. Just let me know, okay? ASAP???_

**Harry:** ~~_Hey bro this is Niall Harry’s friend. He wants to go he’s just being an idiot. Message me on Facebook and I’ll help him get ready so it can be a surprise (;_~~

~~__ ~~

**Louis:** ~~_Sweet! Thank you so much!!! *:_~~

**Harry:** ~~_Now say something cute that’ll make Harry blush because I’m going to delete all the messages except the two before I responded._ ~~

**Louis:** _I’ll pick you up at eight on Tuesday night. Wear something nice for me babe (; See you then xoxoxoxoxo_

__

**Harry:** ~~_Perf. Thanks, Louis (:_~~

**Louis:** _~~No thank you.~~ Blushy Harry is my favorite Harry. Actually, all Harry’s are my favorite Harry, but you know… details._

__

**Harry:** ~~I’m keeping that too. Better give Haz back his phone before he freaks out. Bye! Thanks for your cooperation.~~

**Louis:** ~~_No problem, bye Niall._~~

**Harry:** ~~_Bye Louis_~~

****  
  


**…**

****  
  


   Louis does pick Harry up at eight o’clock on Tuesday night, and Niall does help Harry get ready, despite Harry’s protests. The pair walk into a quaint little movie theater that only possesses one showroom. Louis does get recognized a couple of times and has to sign a few autographs, but nothing too major. Louis refuses to tell Harry what movie they’re seeing until it’s actually playing and Harry can’t ask him any questions because he needs to be quiet. Of course, Louis had to choose an adorable romance film with Daniel Radcliffe in it. Harry tries his best to pay attention to the movie, but he can’t help but stare at Louis and watch him watch the film. He’s so beautiful, and the way he reacts to different parts in the movie make Harry grin.  

When the film ends they wait for everyone else to leave before they stand up and do the same. They walk in time with each other as they exit the theater, mumbled echoes of how much others enjoyed or didn’t enjoy the movie bounce off the walls, but the two of them stay silent and walk slowly, almost as if they’re waiting for everyone else to be gone. The theater is empty, besides a few stray employees that glare at them, probably wanting to be able to leave but having to wait until they’re gone, when Louis whispers shyly.

   “Can I hold your hand?” His eyes hold the weight of the question, his eyelids drooping lower and lower as if he’s worried that Harry will say no. Instead of an answer, Harry reaches his hand out and intertwines his fingers with Louis’.

“You can hold my hand whenever you’d like,” Harry whispers back and smiles timidly as he gauges Louis’ face for a response.

“Good, I was really _really_ hoping you’d say that.”  

They both smile and giggle as they attempt to find Louis’ car, hands swinging together in the small space between their bodies. Louis impatiently clicks the panic button, turning the peaceful silence of the night into a series of blaring beeps.

“There it is.” Louis raises his eyes in a proud gesture.

“And, there goes my hearing.” Harry shakes his head, but can’t stop a small smile from forming on his face.

“Shush it, you.” Louis laughs, before he unlocks the doors and lets the both of them in.

As they drive away Harry becomes more inquisitive.

“Why _What If_?” Harry questions

“What?” Louis responds sounding confused.

“The movie. Why did you choose it?”  

“The same reason you chose to go see the movie with me.”

“Because you were my last resort for fun on a Tuesday night?”

“You’re a wizard, Harry.” Louis mumbles sarcastically.

“Do you like the movie, Louis?”

“Do you like me, Harry?” Harry pauses momentarily, pretending to contemplate it.

“ _Unfortunately_.”

“Might as well make your night even more unfortunate, then.”

“How so?”

Louis goes to park his car in front of Harry’s apartment building, and when the car is entirely motionless he leans forward over the center counsel, awfully close to Harry’s face.

“Can I kiss you?”

Harry just nods, trapped in a daze of Louis, Louis, Louis. It’s all he can think of right now. Louis, and his beautiful chestnut hair. Louis, and his sparkling blue eyes. Louis, and his pink and luscious lips. Louis, with his lips attached to Harry’s, pressing down firm enough to make their presence known, but soft enough to make it sweet. They kiss for what seems like both an eternity and no time at all, and soon enough Harry’s opening the car door and walking up to his buildings entrance. A moment before Harry reaches the door Louis rolls down his window and shouts out.

“Hey, Harry?”

“Yeah, Louis?”

“I like you too.”

“Good. I was really _really_ hoping you’d say that.”

Louis blushes and shakes his head, and Harry smiles as if he were supposed to be modeling for a _Colgate_ commercial. Harry thinks that this night wasn’t too bad as Tuesday nights go. Not bad at all.

****  
  


**…**

****  
  


**Louis Tomlinson Seen Leaving Theater 4 With Mystery Boy**

**Louis Tomlinson, Gay?**

**Who Is The Beautiful Brunette With Louis Tomlinson?**

**Couple Alert: Louis Tomlinson Off The Market?**

**Louis Tomlinson Seen Holding Hands With A Man, And Teenage Girls Everywhere Cry**

****  
  


   A picture, and another, and _another_. Harry reads through article after article until his head is spinning and his throat feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself. There is hundreds of them, and he had absolutely no idea how popular Louis really was, but apparently his status is comparable to _John Green’s_ in the writing community, and he’s an up and coming actor. The mall signing now seems so minimal compared to how big Louis already is, and how much bigger he will become. Harry’s suddenly glad that the book signing was a midday thing, so less crazed fans would be able to attend. It’s a horrid business strategy, but a terrific thing for Harry’s social anxiety. Harry scrolls to the top of his search engine on his laptop and discovers a new article on Louis written by... _MTV News_. Harry suddenly feels lightheaded but reads on anyway.

****  
  


**Tommo’s Got A BF, and He’s Hot, Hot, Hot**

**Yesterday night we spotted Louis Tomlinson at the secret premiere of the new movie “ _What If_ ” starring Daniel Radcliffe and Zoe Kazan. He appeared to sneak in last minute, which we found odd from his established timely record, so we thought we’d investigate. (video link from our interview last week at end of article). All was well as we waited for Mr. Tomlinson to exit, so we could possibly ask him a few questions about the premiere and get a picture or two. Instead, our reporters discovered a “pair of boys who were completely in love”. *GASP* Could Louis really have a secret boyfriend? And is it legal to be that hot? Together the pair looked something like a dream, holding hands and giggling as they attempted to find their lost car. Of course, we also know that Tommo has a record of being impatient as well, so the panic button on his keys is the only answer correct? Correct. The loud beeping and flashing lights only made for better pictures (such as the ones linked below). Whether or not these two beautiful boys stay together we know that we wouldn’t mind a few more HD pictures of the cuties.**

**-Kasse Wright**

****  
  


Harry is having trouble breathing, and he’s only torturing himself by reading on. He slams his laptop shut, and shoves it to his right side, barely able to contain his sobs. The room is drowned in darkness, and the only noise that exists is the wrenching of sobs ringing out of his mouth, and falling from his eyes. This room is overwhelming him and he needs to get out. Harry wipes furiously at his face, throws on some pants and a coat, grabs his phone, and leaves.

****  
  


**…**

****  
  


Harry breathes in and tries his best to stop crying. He has no idea what he’s going to say. He has no clue as to how he can get his point across without Louis blaming himself. Harry doesn’t want Louis to blame himself. If anything It’s Harry’s _fault_. He just never thought it would get this bad. That it would be this much. His heart is restricting in his chest as he waits for Louis to answer the call. He has no idea how he’ll keep his courage when Louis picks up. How he’ll continue to tell Louis that he absolutely cannot be with him when Louis asks him what’s wrong. How he can listen to the disappointed tone that Louis is bound to have, and oh god. What if he _cries_?

Harry positively could not handle it if Louis cried. He’s bound to fall right back into Louis' arms if he cries, and Harry knows that eventually people will know his name. People will start to recognize him, and take pictures of him even if he’s _not_ with Louis, and that’s not the life that Harry wanted. All he wanted was to find a nice man, settle down in the suburbs, and grow old with lots of tiny toddlers of his own to play with. He can’t have a quiet suburban life with an _A-list_ author who is also bound to become a famous actor. He can’t-

_You’ve reached the voicemail of Louis Tomlinson. Please leave a message after the beep._

He didn’t even pick up. It’s not at all surprising. It’s one o’clock in the morning on a _Wednesday night_ , why would he? Harry was hoping he would though. Or maybe he wasn’t? His brain is so busy lapping itself trying to figure out what it wants that Harry almost misses the tone that means he’s supposed to start talking.

“Hey Lou... _is_. I just wanted to call you and let you know that I really like you. _A lot_. I like you a lot, and you’re a great guy, and, and I wish I could do this in person, that I could get a grip on my feelings and just… _make it work._ Make my brain function properly, but I can’t. I’m not normal, and I can’t be normal. I wanted to be okay with it. With you being famous, and doing amazing things. See, you’re so talented and I hardly even know you. I haven’t ever read a poem of yours or watched a film that you’re in.  I haven’t done any of those things, and I already know you deserve what you have. You deserve the wealth and the popularity, and the fame. You deserve it all. But, you also deserve to love and be loved by someone that can handle things like that. Things that put you on the cover of magazines and get your name in _MTV News_ , and that’s just… That can’t be me, _Louis._ I can’t change, and neither can you. You deserve the entire universe and more, and I know that I can’t be the one to give that to you. I hope you can forgive me for that. I… I really like you, Louis. Thank you for having me, even if it was only for such a short time. Please, don’t… don’t call, or come find me or whatever. I don’t think I could handle it. Good- _goodbye_.”

Harry hangs up as quickly as possible. He’s positive he said something wrong, or he didn’t give good enough reasons, or that Louis won’t be able to understand him because he was too quiet and he cried too much. He’s practically running home when his phone beeps.

**Louis:** _Meet me at the mall tomorrow, please._

Harry can’t comprehend why, but he doesn’t have it in him to say no. He practically just broke up with Louis over voicemail, even though they were never actually together, and yet all he had to do was send a dumb text and Harry’s willing to see him the following morning. He’s not going to fight it anymore for the night. He’ll just remind Louis in person in the morning that he was serious about what he said, and that’ll be that. No more _Louis Tomlinson and mystery boy_. No more _mystery boy_. Just _Louis Tomlinson_.

****  
  


**…**

****  
  


When Harry arrives at the shopping center the following morning, he realizes that malls are rather large, and he has no idea where he’s going or if Louis is even here at all.

**Harry:** _I’m here where are you?_

**Louis:**   _Gap Kids, want me to meet you somewhere else?_

__

**Harry:** _No, that’s fine. See you in a few._

**Louis:** _K_

Harry wanders until he finds a map. He never even knew there was a Gap store specifically designed for kids. That’s most likely a good thing to know for the future. He takes the elevator to the second floor, stops and gets a donut at a small deli concession, then tries a little harder to find Louis. He’s slightly angry at Louis for making him come here and seek him out until Harry realizes that Louis never made him do _anything_ , and Harry has no real right to be angry with him. He did text Harry, despite his wishes, but it’s not like he had to respond. He didn’t have to care. _He just did_.

When he approaches the store he pauses for a minute, and then still stands there for another, he waits a little longer, and a little longer, until he gives up on trying to make sure he won’t change his mind. There is never a way to make sure that the choice you made was the right one until it’s already too late to choose the other choice, so he just goes for it. He walks right in knowing exactly what he’s going to say when he looks into Louis’ eyes until he sees him hunched over a small stroller holding up a sparkly pink tutu. It’s one of the most endearing things Harry’s even witnessed.

Louis’ got black framed glasses hunched on the peak of his nose, his hair's a _complete mess_ , and he looks entirely _exhausted_. He must have just woke up, or maybe he just never went to sleep. Regardless, the bags resting underneath his eyes make Harry feel guilty. Harry’s distraction towards Louis’ appearance ends up running him straight into a rack a very tiny shoes and sunglasses.

“Harry? Is that you?” Louis’ voice seems lower and rougher than usual.

“Um, yeah. Yeah, it’s me.” Harry squeaks, equal parts embarrassed and in pain.

“Are you alright?” Harry knows he’s referring to him having just run into a rack, but Harry feels like it’s the other thing. The thing that sends him straight into panic mode, and no he absolutely is anything but _alright_.

“Yup, I’m good. Fine... _Good_? Whatever, I’m okay.”

“You don’t seem very okay…”

“Well neither do you.”

“I never claimed that I am…” No, he did not and now Harry feels bad for not asking. Of course, he’s not going to say that out loud.

“Why did you ask me to come here?”

“What? No, _why are we in a baby’s clothing store_? No, _why do you have a baby_? I thought you loved babies, Harry.”  He assumes Louis’ trying to lighten the mood, but Harry doesn’t want it to be lighter. He just wants it to be over with.

“Please, answer my question, Louis.”

“Come look, this is Doris. She’s my little sister, and I decided to bring her out to buy some new clothes because she really needs a wardrobe update. These onesies are just not cutting it anymore.”

“ _Louis…_ ” Harry sighs frustratedly.

“What?” Louis squeaks, flashing a look of guilt.

“Please, _don’t do this_.”

“Do what?” Louis feigns innocence.

“Beat around the bush. Avoid my question. Just tell me so I can _go_.”

“Okay.” Louis looks small and sad, and the few people that are in the store are staring at them. Harry can’t decide if it’s because Louis’ famous, or if it’s because they’re publicly arguing in a children's store. Probably, both.

“Okay?”

“ _Okay_. Can we please do this somewhere else?” He looks like he might cry, and that’s simply not allowed. Harry needs to stand his ground, not comfort a beautiful boy who shouldn’t be crying over someone as dumb as him in the first place.

“Like, where?”

“Can we just go to the bathroom, _please_?”

“Sure, um, yeah. Yeah.”

They both walk out, Louis pushing  his little sister's stroller and Harry trying his best to keep his distance. The nearest public restroom on this floor is all the way across the mall, so they take the elevator up to the third floor instead. When they get inside the bathroom Louis quickly dashes into a stall and leaves the stroller beside Harry. Doris begins to cry and Harry has no idea what to do.

“Louis… Is she supposed to be in here?”

“Yes, she’s fine.” Harry can hear him crying even though Louis’ trying his best to hide it.  

“Louis… she’s crying is it… can I hold her, _or_?”

“Yeah, just pick her up and bounce a little.” Louis dry laughs and it sounds more painful than anything. “She loves that.”

Harry comforts Doris for a few minutes, whispering sweet things in her ear and bouncing up and down, just like Louis had told him to do. When Louis comes out of the stall his eyes are red and he’s wiping them with the surely cheap and scratchy toilet paper this mall supplied him with. Harry suddenly remembers that he brought tissues in his back pocket because _he_ was sure that he would cry. He hasn’t yet though, so why not give some to Louis?

“Here, I… I came prepared.”

“Thank- _Thank you_. Do you… do you want me to take her?”

“No, no she’s fine. We’re fine.”

“Okay. I-I don’t really know where to start.”

“The beginning preferably.”

“Ha. Ha. _Funny_.” Louis jokes, but he still appears to be nothing but sad.

“Alright, so I, I got your call last night, right? So, I was in the middle of writing this beautiful poem. It was my favorite yet, and I didn’t even think to check who was calling, I just… let it go to voicemail, you know?”

Harry nods.

“So, I finish up this poem, and I’m so proud, and I know it’s late and whoever called probably went back to sleep, but I know they left a voicemail so I’m like okay, I’ll just give it a listen. And. And then I hear your voice, and Harry. _Harry_ , you just sounded so broken, and I had no idea what was going on and I just wanted to fix it, but I didn’t know _how_ , and you just kept talking all this nonsense and I didn’t understand why you would want… why you would want to _leave me_. I had no idea what I could have possibly done to make you hate me enough to break up with me over voicemail.”

“I _didn’t_ …”

“And then I went online, and I saw all the stuff people were writing, and it all seemed great to me. It was super positive, and that isn’t something that usually happens you know, so I go to find that article I assumed you were referring to when you said _MTV News_ and I got so confused as to why this would upset you enough to make you feel so panic-y and like you had  no other option but to walk away.”

“You _don’t_ -”

“But, then I remembered something you had said when we had coffee that first night. You had told me _‘Sometimes, when I’m teaching I forget that they’re five-year-olds and that they’re not going to judge me, so Niall made me this button thing, for when I feel like I need to leave and he’ll call me and remind me where I am.’_ and I thought that maybe that’s what this was. Maybe, you just needed to be reminded of where you were. That you were safe, so I called my mom early this morning, and asked her if I could take Dory out, because I know how much you love small children, but then you got here and you were so serious, and I couldn’t take the thought of not having you around, but now I get it _I think_. I-I just need you to tell me that you don’t want me, and I’ll go. Just look me in the eyes and tell me, and I’m gone.”

It’s the exact moment Harry had been planning for last night, and this morning, just when he arrived and after every single word he spoke to Louis today. He could do this. He was prepared and no one _could stop him_. He turns to face Louis directly. Louis had been pacing before but had now stopped and slumped down against the wall, rubbing his temples lightly. Harry was still holding Doris in his arms, continuing to comfort her even in her sleep. Harry inhales and exhales, _inhales and exhales_ , inhales and exhales, then he lays her down, and he crouches in front of Louis.

“I _can’t_ … I _cannot_ … I _wish_ …”

Niall’s voice is swimming around in his head making him feel dizzy. _‘Remember where you are, Harry. Tell me where you are.’_

“I’m at the mall.”

Louis looks up so that his eyes are in line with Harry’s.

_“What?”_

“I’m at the mall, with Louis.”

“Harry, I…”

“I’m at the mall with Louis, and I’m okay. He’s not going to hurt me, he’s going to _protect me_.”

Niall’s voice is still there guiding him along. _‘Good, good. Now go do what you have to do. You’re a champ and you can do whatever you want babe.’_

“I can do whatever I want.”

“You _can_ …” Louis is even more confused, but his frown has disappeared and been replaced by a small smile.

“Do you know what I want to do?”

“What do you want to do, Harry?”

“I want to kiss you.”

So, he does. Harry kisses Louis on the bathroom floor of a public restroom in a mall, and he loves every single second of it. Louis’ got a shit eating grin on his face, and Harry is crying for an entirely different reason. Louis wipes the tears from under his eyes.

“You want to get out of here?”

“I would _love_ to get out of here.”

****  
  


**…**

****  
  


Harry is in the middle of telling his class the difference between acrylic and watercolor paint in its simplest form a few weeks later, despite them probably not being able to remember it, when he gets a call on his cell, which he accidentally forgot to shut off. The kids all giggle and continue to color, so Harry decides to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, there handsome.”

“You know some of us have real day jobs, right?” Harry teases

“You know some of us made our Paris trip extra short and are having to deal with extreme jet lag?” Harry frowns.

“But, you said you wanted to…”

“I’m kidding, Hazza.”

“Hey, that’s what my friends call me.”

“I know.”

“You can’t call me what my friends call me.”

“Why not?”

“Because, you’re my boyfriend and not my friend.”

“Boyfriend, huh? I don’t think I remember agreeing to that.”

“Oh, I’m… um sorry. I just assumed,”

“Haz. Hey, it’s alright. We’re boyfriends, yeah? All proper and shit.”  Harry can hear Louis’ grin through the phone.

“Proper, yeah.”

The kids are all staring at him, and he should really get off the phone while he’s at work.

“So, what was your point?” Harry asks.

“Point?”

“To calling me in the middle of work?”

“Hey, no one made you answer. Shouldn’t you have your phone off anyway?”

“Why would you call if you thought my phone would be off, and I wouldn’t answer?”

“Because, I knew it wouldn’t be and that you would answer.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“Oh, _absolutely_.”

Harry stops when he hears a small voice saying something.

“Yes, Kalani?”

“Is that your boyfriend, Mr. Styles?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Do you love him?”

“I…”

“It’s okay. I can tell you do. Can you please finish talking so we can paint with that fancy paint you bought us?”

“Of course, I’m sorry kids. Just one moment.”

“Louis. Point. _Now_.”

“Oh, you know that poem I told you about?”

“Which one?”

“At the mall? The one I really was proud of?”

“I think so?”

“They want to publish it in a poetry collection for this year's best poems.”

“Lou, are you serious? That’s fantastic!”

“Yeah, but…”

“But, what? Louis, but what?”

“I told them I had to show it to my boyfriend first.”

“What? Why would you do that? What if they cut the deal?”

“Because it’s about you _silly_. And, they won’t cut the deal. It’s too good of a poem.”

“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

“That’s because I am.”

“So, when are you going to read it to me?”

“When the time is right, of course.”

Harry sighs. Louis is far too much of a perfectionist.

“Alright, see you later, yeah?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Bye, L.”

“Bye, Harry.”

****  
  


**…**

****  
  


“Why can’t we just go to his place? It’s obviously nicer. I mean I’ve only seen pictures, but it kind of resembles a palace.” Zayn complains.

“Because, he’s meeting _you_. You’re not his friends, you’re mine.” Harry groans. He can’t understand why Zayn’s not getting it.

“I think he would get that our place is a literal piece of _crap_ , and it would be much easier to host the dinner at his place. He’s not dumb, Harry. Even I know that.”

Harry thinks about it, but it’s just not right. You can’t invite your boyfriend over for dinner so that he can meet your friends, and then just call and be like _‘Hey, Louis so you know that dinner I’m practically forcing you to go to? Yeah, can we have that at your place? Sweet, great, thank you.’_ No. That would be rude, and Harry was raised better than that. It’s not like he can’t cook at his place, it’s just that it would be a million times easier to cook at Louis’. Harry would know. He’s probably done it twenty times at least now. It’s been about four months since they met at the cafe, and he’s definitely slept over more than once. The thing is, Louis has never been inside his apartment, and truth be told Harry is a little embarrassed by it, so he’s going to do his best to make it look presentable.

Niall came over early so he could help out Zayn with the cleanup while Harry and Liam make crab stuffed salmon with a side of homemade garlic, herb, and cheese mashed potatoes and french bread. The boys tidy up everywhere, even putting down a tablecloth and placemats on their old tarnished dining room table. When they’re all done and the table is set Louis is due to arrive any minute and Harry is doing one of those crazy mental checklists.

“There’s five chairs instead of three?”

“Check” Luckily, Niall is nice enough to deal with Harry’s crazy.

“Every room with carpet is vacuumed?”

“Also, check.”

“There’s a knife, spoon, fork, plate, glass, and place mat at every spot?”

“Check, Louis’ at the door.”

“ _Louis’ at the door_?”

“Check.”

Harry races to the door and throws it open, slightly out of breath.

“Hi.”  And, Wow. Louis looks gorgeous in tight black skinnies and a red button down.

“Hello, nice outfit. It’s great knowing you don’t exclusively cook in your underwear at my house.” Oh _fucking hell_ , Harry forgot to get dressed. Out of everything he could have forgotten, he forgot to get dressed.

“Thanks. Yeah, I figured I didn’t want to make you feel special or anything.”

“Why don’t you introduce me to your lovely friends then go get dressed, _darling_.” Louis teases him, but Harry just ignores it. He already looked stupid, what can he do about it now? Harry guides Louis into their small dining room where Liam is sat at the head of the table on one side, Zayn to his left, and Niall to his right.

“This is Zayn” Zayn waves. “He’s the idiot that I let be my friend because Liam begged me to like him.” Zayn pouts a bit.

“You love me, _douchebag_.” Zayn mutters.

“Next to him is Liam.” Liam waves. “He was my college roommate, and for some crazy reason I agreed to live with him and Zayn here.”

“I think the crazy reason is that you’re dirt poor.” Zayn grins, finally having an appropriate comeback. Liam swats him on the arm and tells him to shut up, but then returns to cuddling into his side.

“And the crazy pseudo blonde is Niall, who I can stand to be around most of the time.”  Louis laughs loud and bright.

“What’s funny?” Niall asks.

Louis leans over and whispers in Niall’s ear “I’ll tell you when that _loser_ goes to change, I don’t want to embarrass him too much.”

Niall grins and nods.

“Harold, why don’t you go take that lovely purple crayon of yours and draw yourself some clothes, while I chat up your friends.”

Harry frowns, pretending to feel wounded as he walks away from the table and into his bedroom. He goes to get changed into an outfit similar to Louis’, fixes his hair a bit, and walks back out. The four of them all appear to be in hysterics over something, and Harry would rather be apart of it.

“Did I miss something?”

“Oh, you know Louis was just telling us about how much you love us all.” Harry drops his jaw and acts as if he’s furious.

“Louis does talk some shit. I hate you all, I don’t even know why you’re here.” Louis grins.

“You don’t hate _me_.” He says as he stands near Harry and cups his cheek. Harry can’t help but melt into the touch.

“No, I _don’t_.” Harry whispers as Louis pecks his lips.

“ _Ew!_ Save my poor virgin eyes!” Zayn practically screams.

“You wish you were a virgin, Zayn.”  Harry mumbles.

“Even I know you’re not a virgin. You look like a fucking _Guichi_ model for gods sake.” Louis scoffs.

“Says the famous guy.” Zayn raises his eyebrows accusingly.

“Fair, _fair_.” Louis tilts his head to the side in agreement.

“Are we really discussing whether we’re virgins? I’m almost positive we all have regular sex?” Niall looks confused.

Harry gasps, playing along. “ _Niall!_ That is _naughty_. I’m too young for things like that.”

“That is not what you were saying two days ago.” Louis smirks.

“ _TMI, TMI, TMI_.” Niall screeches.

“I think I like him.” Zayn grins.

“Me too.” Harry sighs sweetly.

Harry brings out all the food eventually, and of course wows Louis with his amazing cooking skills for what feels like the millionth time. They all eat in silence for a little while until Liam speaks out.

“I think it’s time for the obligatory boyfriend question time.”

“I agree.” Niall smiles.

“Mhm. We have to make sure his intentions are good with our boy.” Zayn teases.

“Please, do not torture Lou. You already all agreed that you liked him.” Harry frowns.

“Will you please agree to not have sex when we are around?” Zayn asks

“That I can do.” Louis agrees.

“If you break that promise you owe us all a round at the bar down the street.” Niall demands.

“I think I can handle that.”

“Last thing.” Zayn says.

“Yes?”

“How tall are you? I don’t really agree with your Wiki page.”

“Oh, fuck off. Leave my height alone.”

“I’m going to need a number first.”

“5 9’ okay?”

“That’s what Harry said after he met you at the book signing. He edited your Wiki page and everything.”

Harry thinks Louis really didn’t need to know that, and that Zayn is an asshole, but Louis’ face lights up at that tidbit of information, so at least it made _someone happy_.

“I’m surprised he didn’t put 2 5’. He always says I’m the size of a toddler, but I think he’s delusional if he thinks toddlers are only slightly shorter than he himself is.”

“That’s just because you’re my baby,” Harry smiles.

“You’re such a fucking liar. If anything you’re _my_ baby.”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

“Guess who is getting no cuddles tonight?”

“I TAKE IT BACK.” Harry shouts.

“You two are gross.” Niall mumbles.

Yeah, they really are.

****  
  


**…**

****  
  


Nearly three months later, after Louis has just returned from Paris for a fifth time, and Harry and him have been together for seven months all five boys get together for a movie night, something that’s become one of their favorite things.

“So, Lou, how much do you make a year?” Liam asks, genuinely curious.

“A lot.” Louis responds, not wanting to brag.

“Could we have a rough estimate?”

“That’s kind of a rude question, don’t you think? I wouldn’t want someone asking _me_ that.” Harry murmurs.

“That’s because you’re a teacher. We already know he’s rich, it’s just interesting and we want to know.” Liam shrugs, but Louis still looks uncomfortable, he’s lost friends over this conversation before and he doesn’t plan on that happening again. He feels like they won’t really mind though, so he goes for it.

“Yeah, yeah it’s okay H. Maybe four or five after taxes.”

“Four or five hundred thousand? That’s not too bad I mean I usually make around two hundred thousand a year.” Niall mentions.

“No.” Louis coughs. “Um, four or five... million.” He bites his lip and everyone including Harry’s jaws drop.

‘A-a year?” Niall’s eyes widen.

“Yeah.” Louis ducks his head down, feeling shy.

“Well,” Liam coughs. “Good for you buddy. I’m glad you’re making good money.” He half smiles, but Louis feels like the world is weighing on his shoulders, so he tries to redirect the conversation.

“I’ve never asked what all of you do? Besides Harry. I obviously know what Harry does.”

“I’m a lawyer.” Niall smiles, feeling confident again.

“That’s really cool! Do you have a big fancy spinny chair and an oversized desk and everything?” Louis raises his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve even got an assistant!” Niall grins.

“Impressive, how about you Liam?”

“I’m a vet intern. I just started grad school recently.”

“That sounds like a lot of school.”  Louis laughs.

“It is.” Liam sighs.

“I’m sure it’ll be worth it in the end.”

“I hope so.”

“What does Zaynie do?”

“Not make four million dollars a year.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to care.”

“I’m a college professor.”

“That is actually _amazing_. How is that even _possible_? Aren’t you like twenty two?”

“Yeah, I just got really lucky I guess.”

“Well, your guess is right.”

“Do you guys want to be done with this awkward getting to know each other more shit, and watch a movie that I found that coincidentally stars Louis Tomlinson? Not sure who he is, but it sounds promising.” Niall stands up and walks toward the couches. Zayn and Liam follow immediately, but Harry and Louis take a fraction of a second longer to get up.

“Absolutely.” Harry flashes his dimples.

“Not, Absolutely _not_. No one needs to see that. I don’t even know which film it is, and I know that no one needs to see that.”

“It’s actually only a few readings of the script, in some beginning stages of production. It must be in the making, yeah Louis?”

“There is no way you have what I think you do.”

“Oh but there is. I have a buddy in the production line of work and I asked him about you. I told him to give me your best work thus far, and this is what I happened to receive.” Niall smirks.

“What is it?” Harry questions.

“It’s-”

“How many novels do you have Louis?” Niall asks.

“Published or Unpublished?”

“Published.”

“Six, I think.”

“How many of those are best sellers?”

“I’m pretty sure, five.”

“How many of them are being made into movies?

“Three.”

“How many scripts have you written, Lou?”

“For the movie adaptations of my novels? None.”

“Keep that in mind, _darling_.” Niall teases, and Harry is so thoroughly confused, he can’t even really remember why this conversation started.

Before Niall presses play Louis whispers “This is why I go to Paris.”

“Hello everyone, I’m Louis Tomlinson the screenwriter and the director, and I’ll just be here to help you all out for the open auditions of Green.”

The camera is a bit shaky. Harry assumes Louis felt no need to hire a professional cameraman for open auditions, and even though Harry hasn’t got a clue as to why Niall looks so smug and Louis like his biggest secret was just uncovered he’s excited to see what happens, because what? Louis is directing and writing movies now?

They watch audition after audition, and it would be boring if Louis didn’t enjoy being so helpful.

“Okay, Eddie you’re doing fantastic. Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what it was like looking into their eyes the first time you knew?” Eddie considers it for a moment.

“Yeah.”

“And how did that feel?”

“It felt like… it felt like I’ve never seen something more _beautiful_ in my life.”

“That’s exactly how William feels in this scene.”

“I’ve never thought about lines like that.”

“Well, now you have. Let’s have another go at it, shall we?”

Louis readjusts himself in his seat on the video, and Eddie Redmayne tries the line again.

“I looked into his eyes.They were the same shade of green they had always been. They hadn’t changed at all. I had, because a moment ago I felt differently. A moment ago I believed that my deepest love was reserved strictly for my typewriter and the most beautiful color on the planet was a velvety scarlet red, and that nothing could ever change that. I looked into his eyes in that moment, and I knew that green was my color. It was everything I was feeling, and everything I had felt. It was a beautiful summer day near the ocean, beside the emerald hat of a snowman on the sidewalk of a suburban city, It was green, and I was in love.”

Louis is hiding his face between his knees, Zayn and Liam are staring at Harry in shock, Niall is smirking like a lunatic, and Harry is so caught up in how beautiful the words Louis wrote are that he doesn’t even realize that they’re about him. Louis is making a movie about him and how much he loves Harry, and Harry hasn’t even got a clue.

“That is absolutely beautiful, Lou. You are such an amazing writer.” Harry’s eyes glow and he looks so proud to be able to have Louis as his boyfriend, that no one has the heart to tell him what it really means. They all fall asleep in the living room that night to the sounds of celebrities figuring out the best way to speak a string of words that Louis had wrote specifically for Harry to hear one day, just… not yet.

****  
  


**…**

****  
  


**Louis** : _meet me outside after school_

**Harry** : _why?_

**Louis** : _…_

**Louis:** _please?_

**Harry:** _okay. you better bring me cookies_

**Louis** : _i’ll bring you however many cookies you want_

**Harry:** _one’s good, thanks babe ^ 3^_

Harry’s day with his class drags on slower than usual due to his distraction towards Louis’ odd behavior. He seemed nervous, which is a weird thing to notice in a text, but Harry assumes he’s texted Louis for long enough to know when something’s up. He’s got about an hour left in his day when he receives a text from Niall.

**Niall:** _did you tell Louis that story about Ed writing a song for you?_

**Harry:** _Um, I think I did at the cafe that first night, why???? And how would you know that?_

**Niall:** _that is so so stupid. so stupid. sometimes I think you have no common sense tbh. and haven’t you learned that I know everything??? I found a secret tape of Louis and you really think I couldn’t figure that out?_

**Harry** : _wait, wait, wait… is that why he’s acting weird? because I told him that story? I didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable it’s just one of my favorite stories to tell and_

**Niall:** _poetry is way better than a stupid song._

**Harry** : _okay..._

**Niall:** _keep that in mind._

Harry’s beginning to think that people enjoy confusing him. All the boys have been strange lately, and Harry hasn’t got it yet. They have no reason to act oddly around him. They don’t even act weird around Louis, it’s honest to god only him. Harry frowns when the school bell rings. He has no idea what Louis has planned, but he’s extremely nervous.

He walks down the entrance stairs of the school, and Louis is directly in front, leaning against a Jeep Wrangler and holding a giant frosted cookie that says _Happy One Year Anniversary (tomorrow)_ in large blue gel letters. Harry’s jaw drops. He had nearly forgotten that it was already their anniversary tomorrow. He had spent so much time on his present, but it’s been done for a week or so now, and he completely lost track of time. He doesn’t understand why Louis got a Jeep though?

“Happy anniversary, love.” Louis bats his eyelashes unconsciously, and looks too pretty for his own good. Harry feels like he might accidentally let a tear slip from his overly bright and happy eyes, but if he does Louis doesn’t mention it.

They hug each other like the world is going to end, and their last wish on this earth is to be in each other's arms. “Thank you so much, Lou.” Harry kisses his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, and his eyelids. He can hear small snickers and chants of ‘gross’ from children still exiting the school building, but at the moment Harry cannot find it in himself to care. “But I don’t really understand what we’re doing?”  Harry whispers against his mouth.

“Get in and you’ll see.” Louis smirks, then twists out of Harry’s grip, runs to the opposite side of the car, and hops over the door into his seat. Harry shakes his head, and pulls his door open like a decent human being.

“Awww, you’re no fun, Haz.” Harry rolls his eyes, and scrolls through the music on his phone to find something good to listen to as they drive away. Harry picks the playlist that the kindergartener’s helped him make for Louis during art time last week that they ever so cleverly named “Larry”, because apparently Harry always calls Louis L, and Louis always calls him ‘arry. Harry tried to explain to them that that was because Louis was british, but they weren’t having it. They’re a rather stubborn group.

“ _Stubborn Love_? I haven’t heard this song in ages. What playlist is this from?” Louis tilts his head to the left and looks at Harry with a sideways smile.

“It’s a little anniversary present from me and my class. They named it Larry, because they’re clever little shits and I have absolutely no imagination.”  Harry grins, and Louis looks away from the road briefly to grin back.

“You’ll have to show me all the songs when we get there.” Louis nods his head, and he looks so sure of himself. It makes Harry’s heart glow.

“And where exactly would there be?” Harry tries his best to get even a small hint as to where they’re going from Louis. Louis glares at him for a second then continues to drive as _Falling Slowly_ drifts through the cars speakers.  

They drive down highways and small back roads, until Louis parks the Jeep in the sand… right in front of the ocean. “L-Louis, I…” Harry stumbles over his words. There is a light blue picnic blanket on the shoreline that is lined with tea candles and covered with sandwhiches and other various foods. Harry can’t believe it. Louis managed to bring all of his favorite things together, and he hadn’t even had a clue he was doing in.

“Do you like it?” Louis smirks.

“I-I love it.” Harry is still in shock.

“Would you like something to eat?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice.”

They lay down on top of the blanket, chatting about nothing and everything, as they feed each other spider-man fruit snacks that Louis excused as being the only thing the store had, but Harry knows better. Harry continues to play his plalylist and show Louis the songs, and although it’s quite embarressing showing a bunch of love songs that in some way, shape, or form remind you of your boyfriend to your boyfriend, it’s entirely reassuring when Louis smiles and hums along to the ones he knows.

As the sun begins to set they clean up the meal and the candles. They’re almost all packed up, and Harry assumes they’re heading back into the city, when.

“Leave that.” Louis mumbles under his breath and waves his hand passingly, as he walks to the front seat of the car.

“Aren’t we leaving?” Harry questions, puzzled. Louis then decides to turn around and hold up beach towels,

“Would you care to go for a swim, Harold?” Louis smirks deviously.

“I haven’t got any swimming trunks, _my love_.” Harry frowns as if he’s actually dissapointed and willing to tease, which _he kind of is_.

“ _Exactly_.” Louis mutters, then goes on to chuck the towels in Harry’s face, strip, and run off into the water, all before Harry’s even fully uncovered his eyes and fixed his hair. Harry rushes in behind him. _Of course he does_ , because there’s a naked Louis Tomlinson in the ocean, and there’s _no way in hell_ he’s missing out on that. Not on his anniversary, anyway.

Harry manages to catch up to Louis rather quickly, all things considered. He gets his arm around Louis’ waist, gripping tightly and not planning on letting go anytime soon. Louis leans in to kiss Harry, then diggs his fingers into Harry’s sides making him jump and squirm.

“You’re such a _fucking_ tease.”  Harry groans.

“Yeah, and what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m _going to_ fucking murder you and bury you in my backyard.”

“You can’t do that if you can’t catch me.” Louis winks, then dives underneath the water and swims away.

Harry does catch him eventually, despite the fact that Louis _never seems to run out of energy_. He’s pretty leaneant on the whole murder thing though, once Louis promises he has an actual present for Harry on the beach. It’s not that the whole beach surprise wasn’t enough. It was more than enough, and Harry would have been completely satisfied with a phone call and maybe some cuddles if Louis hadn’t been busy. It’s just that Harry _really loves_ presents.

They get out of the water together as a sopping shivvering mess. Their clothes are strew everywhere and neither of them has enough energy left to find them, so they simply wrap themselves in their towels and cuddle up on top of the picinic blanket with another blanket that Louis must have thrown out when Harry wasn’t looking. Louis’ fingers intertwine themselves in Harry’s hair, and Harry’s thumb presses itself into the back of Louis’ neck and massages it lightly. It’s something of a comfortable routine that they’ve obtanied, and neither of them seem to be bothered by the other, so they’re both perfectly okay with their arrangement. Harry’s begining to drift off when Louis says something that catches his attention.

“I wake up… and I know your eyes are closed right now, that you’re probably in a pink tinted dream about that time he wrote a song for you, and I can’t sing but I would try if it would make your eyes light up the way they do when you talk about it.”

“Louis, what are you on about…”Harry looks completely stupefied, and Louis just hopes he’ll understand and stop asking questions, because this is hard enough as it is.

“I can’t sing, but I would create a choir for two, me and you, and harmonize with myself even though that’s not an ability I possess.”

Harry thinks he understands what Niall was talking about now, because there’s absolutely no way that this isn’t a poem, and there’s absolutely no way Louis didn’t write this for him.

“Because, god dammit every time you smile I think… this is what it would look like, if the sun, and the moon, and all of the stars had a baby. If you were to take everything shiny and sparkly in the world, and melt it in a pot, they would design a mold to look exactly like you, because you sparkle and shine like nothing else.”

Harry’s ears have drowned out any noise that isn’t Louis voice, and the way he’s breathing so hard in between lines that Harry’s starting to think that speaking this to Harry is causing Louis physical pain. It’s causing him quite a bit of pain too, but that’s only because he feels like his chest might implode with the all consuming love he possesses for this boy.

“You’re the kind of person that deserves to have songs written about them, and since I can’t do that. I can’t do anything, but sit alone in my bedroom and scrawl out some stupid nonsensical poem, that maybe I don’t deserve you, but that doesn’t make me want you any less.”

Harry wants to stop him right there. He wants to tell him that none of that is true, but Harry’s crying and he doesn’t think he could spit out a single sentance let alone an entire string of them right now. Instead, he manages to utter six remarkable words that he doesn’t mean at all, but says them for the sake of Louis’ pounding heart and shallow breath.

“You don’t have to keep going…” Harry says as he tries to prevent the tear tracks from staining his face.

“Yes, I do.” Louis affirmates, and Harry’s not going to argue with him again.

“I wake up… and suddenly you’re awake too. Good morning sunshine, don’t stop glowing, because the world would be so dark if you were not in it.”

Harry’s not sure how much longer he can last, before he has to cut Louis off and kiss the living daylights out of him, because this is too much. _Louis_ is too much.

“Because, no matter how beautiful your face is asleep, it will always be more beautiful awake.”

Harry checks his racing pulse, and pinches his wrist… just to make sure he’s alive and not dreaming.

“The moon beams get tangled in your hair, and tuck themselves in like a blanket, and I always wondered why the night time was especially fond of you.”

Harry wants to speak up, but says nothing. Hopefully his eyes can do the talking for him.

“The sun is slowly rising, like that cake you made me the other day, that you thought would be a complete failure, but really it was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted.”

Harry remembers that day. It was nearly seven months ago now, and Harry had had so much trouble with parents that day at the school. He had wanted to do an experiment with them that demonstrated poverty and how little some people have compared to others. He had just wanted to use bowls of rice as an example, but he recieved about eleven emails that day of parents complaining about how he could not possibly do that to their children.

It had made no sense to him. He wasn’t showing their five-year-olds images and videos of dying children, he just wanted them to get an idea of how lucky they are and that they should apreciate what they have even if it isn’t much. He had come home wanting to let off some steam by baking a cake and seeing his boyfriend, so Louis had came over and he got to baking right away, except all of his cupcakes had refused to rise properly. That day caused Harry to cry miserbly and feel sorry for himself, but now it was a part of a beautful poem, and Harry is so grateful that it happened.

“Maybe, that’s the key to everything I want to know, but don’t. Maybe, our thoughts are programmed to play with our biggest fears, and make it seem lie we’re not going to make it, when we’re already near the peak of the mountain top. Maybe, we’re all going up despite the gravity that pulls us down, because we know that it’s worth the struggle. You’re worth the struggle.”

“I wake up… and you’re not there. My nightmares tell me it’s my fault. That something terrible has happened to you, and you’re laying in the ditch on the side of the road somewhere, and when a crew comes to scrape your guts off of the cemet they can’t even manage to find that. My mind circles, as my body twists and turns, seeking the warmth of yours, when I remember that you’re away at your mother’s for the weekend, and I sink into the matress. I relax, because I know you’re okay, and that you will be with me come Monday morning, but my mind refuses to rest, because now it’s gone off on another tangent of green, green, green, and how if you held an emerald stone up to your eyes, it would be a perfect match. How, I’ve grown green with envy of those who get to see you more often, and green with a sickness in my stomach, that I know something that I’d rather not admit to. That my toes are dipped in a pool that’s ready to cover my head and wash me awayin its current, and everything is so green that I can no longer think straight, and you’re not here, but I love you.”

For a fraction of a second Harry’s heart stops, because that would mean that Louis has loved him since August. Louis has loved him since the fifth month they were together. Louis has been in love with him for seven months now, and it’s not like Harry’s clueless, and come to think of it it’s rather strange that they haven’t said those words to each other yet, because they’ve both been in love for a long time, but it never felt necessary, because they just knew, and that was enough, but now that it’s being said he hasn’t got a clue why it hadn’t happened all those months ago.

“You wake up… and maybe it’s all in my head, but I think that you just might love me too.”

Louis seems to exhale for longer than what seems humanly possible, and Harry’s tears have finally subsided. They both can breathe again, and Louis just confessed that he loves Harry on their one year anniversary at the ocean while they’re still freezing and naked. _Louis just confessed that he loves Harry._

“I love you too… so much.” Harry sniffles, and with that they fall asleep to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore as the stars smile down at them, because… _finally_.

 

 

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**Author's Note:**

> I have about three more scenes I had planned out to write after this but ran out of time to do so, so if it's alright with my receiver I will write those as well. I'll give an update later on to tell you where you can eventually find them if they approve.


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